The True Love Job
by TheHinkyPanda
Summary: Leverage!Rumbelle AU. Nate Gold is a disgraced insurance lawyer who is approached by a ten year old boy who wants to liberate his town from the wicked Mayor. By enlisting the help of a thief, hacker, grifter and hitter, he sets out to free Storybrooke from the clutches of Mayor Regina Mills and just may get a second chance at life for himself.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: **This is just a fun little thing I'm trying out. I love the show Leverage and thought it would be pretty cool to write a AU using the Once Upon a Time cast of characters. This is written purely in fun and I'm not making any money off it. All the writes belong to whoever owns Leverage and Once.

**The True Love Job**

**Prologue**

_Boston, Massachusetts_

He needs a job.

Or a hobby.

Or another drink. Yes, a drink is far easier to get a the moment, so a drink it is. There is no one else in the bar at two in the afternoon so it doesn't take long for the bartender to see his empty scotch glass and remedy the issue. He takes one sip of the liquid when someone enters the establishment.

"Are you Nate Gold?"

He turns to see a boy, about ten, standing next to the empty barstool to his right. "Aren't you a little young to be in here?"

The kid shrugs and dumps a large book on the bar. "I'm Henry, Henry Mills. I need your help."

"How do you know I'm Nate Gold?"

Henry climbs up onto the bar stool and flips open the book. Nate turns to the bartender, surely a ten-year-old shouldn't be sitting at the bar but the man just shrugs and goes back to cleaning glasses. The kid's book is filled with newspaper articles, all declaring his many court room victories. He had had an extensive reputation as a shark in a suit, his cases and dealings iron clad and impenetrable. He wielded words like weapons, once upon a time.

His reputation as an insurance lawyer that prosecuted thieves for larceny and fraud and never lost a case is completely and uttered ruined now. He had lost his boy to cancer a year ago now. His wife gave up on him shortly after that. She wanted to move on, he couldn't so she went ahead without him. She was still moving ahead without him while he was living the last few months out of the bottom of a bottle. He wondered how much longer it would take before his liver gives up on him too.

But looking through the boy's scrapbook brings back the fierceness, the drive, and he could feel it like a phantom limb. He misses the chase, the laying of the traps and watching his prey stumble into them. The look on their face when they realize he caught them. As he continues to flip through the book, he is surprised to see the kid includes not only his victories but also some failures. There's weren't many, but there were three that left him very unfilled. Two he couldn't catch and one, one he let go.

Jefferson. A world class thief with no known last name, a taste for antiquities and penchant for theatrics. He likes going after small statues and oddly enough, Alice in Wonderland themed items. Whenever he made off with a particular prize, he always left a silk top hat in its place.

August W. Booth. A hacker that leaves no virtual trail whatsoever. Nate had chased him all around the world for eight months before he had to give up. It had been said that Booth didn't pay a dime on his world travels and had crossed the globe twice now on the backs of electronic funds.

And then, there is Belle French. She is the one he had let go though he wouldn't admit that to anyone. She had wanted to see the world, just as Booth had, but instead of skimming off bank accounts, she used men. She is the best grifter he has ever come across. He lets his hand linger over her face briefly, ignoring the headline "Insurance Lawyer Lets Grifter Slip Through His Fingers," before closing the book.

"So what do you want, Henry? My autograph?"

"I want your help."

"With what?"

"See, there's this town in Maine, Storybrooke and the mayor there is really bad."

Nate shrugs. "Vote her out."

Henry rolls his eyes. "Don't you think I've thought about that? No one is qualified to run against her. She makes sure of it and she's making everyone's lives horrible and we're all trapped."

"Trapped?"

"More or less."

"Uh-huh."

"Look, with your wins in the court room, you could take her. And if you need help to, you know..."

"Do things that are less than legal?"

"Yeah. Well, use the ones who got away. They help you with this and you'll stop chasing them. If they're smart enough to get away from you, they could definitely help you get the mayor out."

"Why not let the law get rid of her? Find a good candidate to run against her? Read the town charter for crying out loud! There are easier and very legal ways to remedy this."

"Read the town charter? I'm ten. I'm working through Harry Potter right now." Henry pats the cover of his book. "Besides, she controls the law and the newspaper and the businesses. She controls the town. We need your help to get her out."

He looks so young and desperate, pleading with a middle aged drunk of a lawyer, and in a brief moment, Nate sees his son staring back at him. Tears prick at his eyes and his hand grips the tumbler of alcohol. Words dry up in his throat.

"Henry!"

Nate and Henry both jump at the woman's voice. She is much less intimidating than she sounded, round-faced with green eyes and short, dark hair. She rushes over to him breathless, relieved but angry.

"Henry Mills, you are in big trouble!" She turns to Nate. "I'm so sorry, Mr..."

"Gold," Henry pipes up. "This is Nate Gold. He's going to-"

"Finish his drink," Nate ends the sentence himself.

"Well, I'm Mary Margret Blanchard, Henry's panicked fifth grade teacher. Thank you for staying with him. He wandered away from our field trip." She grabs Henry by the arm and helps him down from the bar stool. "Once again, I'm so sorry."

Nate waves her off. "No matter." He turns back to his drink, ignoring Henry being dragged out of the bar. It isn't until he finishes his drink that he realizes Henry forgot his scrapbook. He orders another drink and reopens the book. It is proof he had had a life. He had been useful, with a purpose. He turns to the articles of the ones that got away. He has chased these people for long enough to know how to pull off a heist. He could do this. It might be fun even.

He is going to need someone for a hitter position in this little heist group. If he remembers correctly, Emma Swan is recently out of work, the bail bonds company she worked for going belly up. Her capture rate is just an impeccable as his own. She is a force to be reckoned with and he is going to need another straight man to keep the thief, hacker and grifter in line.

It would be nice to see Belle again too.

Besides, he needs a job.


	2. Chapter 2

**Authors Note: **I decided to keep the chapters short because that seems to work best for me. Short chapters, more frequent updates.

**The True Love Job**

**Chapter One: Storybrooke**

The town is quaint.

A stereo-typical small New England hamlet that sits on a quiet harbor. Everyone knows each other which makes his gathering of information slightly difficult. Strangers are easily noticed and given the infrequency of seeing them, it doesn't take long for gossip to start. Around noon, everyone has heard of the man with the cane strolling through their sleepy little town. By the time he settles at the only bar in the town, a tavern type establishment called "The Rabbit Hole," rumors as to why he is there are running rampant.

Whispers of his intentions reach his ears as he tries to look interested in the football game that is playing over the bar. An unpopular view is that he is going to buy real estate to develop the acres of woods around the town. Others are thinking he may have his eye on a business front, say the boarded up pawn shop by the docks. Maybe he owns a lobster fleet or is going to run for Mayor. Once he picks up on that little bit of hope, he knows Henry's plea is an honest one.

The Mayor is not well liked in her town.

"Is this seat taken?"

He is still forming his retort when he turns and sees who it is sliding onto the barstool next to him. The hair is different, a little shorter than he remembers and mahogany in color. It was bleach blond and down to her waist when he first met her. But the eyes, a clear sky blue, and the smile is always the same. "Ms. French."

"Mr. Gold," she responds with a quirky smile. She orders a drink, a cosmopolitan and folds her hands neatly on the bar. "Such formality. Am I to assume that you spent all day researching?"

He turns the scotch glass in his hand, thankful he's not falling down drunk for the first night in months. "I did. But knowing you, dearie, you already knew that."

She tips her head in agreement. "Discover anything interesting?"

He bites back his response of having her be the most interesting thing he has seen all day. Interesting and beautiful and dear god above he is still in love with this woman. That truth is enough to drive him to drink. "Interesting enough."

"Well, I did some investigating myself." She accepts her drink with a bright smile, the nervous looking barkeeper relaxing immediately before moving off to the other end of the bar. "My car broke down and a very kind gentleman stopped to help me."

"Oh really?" He shouldn't feel the stab of jealousy that he does. "And who might this Prince Charming be?"

"Oh, he wasn't as gallant as all that but his name was David. David Nolan. He and his wife are separated presently and trying to get a divorce so they can move on with new prospects but it seems the wheels of town hall run quite slowly here."

"Yes, so I heard." He takes a sip of his scotch. "I spoke with Mr. Nolan's 'new prospect' today when I returned Henry's book. She said the same thing." He was going to return the book to Henry himself but when he found out that Henry was the Mayor's son, adopted son at that, he decided to go through the school teacher, Mary Margaret Blanchard. She told him of her woes of wanting to marry David Nolan but the divorce process was stalled for some unknown reason.

"Do they suspect the Mayor is behind the delay?"

"I don't think so. But Henry most definitely is suspicious."

Belle hms softly. "I have to admit, I thought this was a trick. I thought you might be trying to get back into your company's good graces by rounding up all those who got away."

"How do you know that's not the case?"

She eyes him thoughtfully. "Because we're the liars and the law breakers. You're the honest one."

He pulls a face and drains his glass.

She giggles. "Well, supposed honest man then."

"So what changed your mind about my nefarious schemes?"

"Well, I followed you around town today, watched you talk to different people and let's just say," she leans over close to him and whispers, "I know how this game is played and you were a little too obvious about caring."

All he has to do is turn his head slightly and he could capture her lips. But he wrestles with what is left of his self control and refrains from the pull. "Thank goodness I won't be doing the grifting then."

She settles back on her bar stool. "The others are here too. I spoke to the lady who runs the diner, Granny Lucas, I kid you not, and she also has a bed and breakfast that she runs. Since no one comes through town, she's terribly lacking for business." Belle smiles, quite pleased with herself. "I told her I might be able to help with that."

"Now won't that be a little obvious, all of us staying under one roof?"

"You are the mastermind, I'm sure you'll figure out something out." She finishes her drink, drops her money next to her glass and a room key next to his. "See you tomorrow morning bright and early to hear all about your plans." She briefly presses her lips against his cheek before disappearing into the crowd.

The scotch and her lingering kiss muddles his head nicely but Belle is right. He is the mastermind and they would be expecting a plan. He pulls out his notebook and starts re-reading the short hand he had taken down after each of his meetings. Henry had spoken in generalities but his gauge on the morale of the town is spot on, the people are not happy and the mayor is not liked.

He had spoken briefly with Mary Margaret, who confirmed Belle's conversation with David. Mary Margaret had even mentioned that there had been smear campaign against her when it came out that she and David were seeing each other. He'd have to send someone over to the newspaper office to poke around there since his investigative skills were "too obvious." If he remembers correctly, August has some grifting skills he might be able to use.

Granny's business is suffering because of the lack of visitors and he has a feeling that was only the tip of the ice berg. There are many businesses in the heart of the town that could profit greatly from fresh clientele coming in on weekend getaways. And if they are all miserable with the state of events that could be used to unify them in their stand against the Mayor. He would need to get his hands on the town charter but with the only library in town boarded up, he will have to go to the records office. Or perhaps Belle could go since she could charm the stripes off a tiger.

There is still a matter of price. The town doesn't look like it had much to offer so that is a looming problem. Jefferson and Booth are used to high price pay offs and rarely go out of their way for anything that didn't ring in at the million dollar mark. Belle does whatever she wants as long as travel is involved. Emma is desperate for food and a roof over her head right now. As for a suitable price for him, that is slightly harder to pinpoint but Belle's kiss on the cheek was a good start.


	3. Chapter 3

**The True Love Job**

**Chapter Two**

Nate wakes up to a pounding on the door and in his head. He can't tell which one is worse but both need to stop.

"What?"

"You're late."

It's Jefferson, he can tell from the clipped words. Booth has more of a drawl. "For what?"

There's a chuckle. "A very important date."

He can practically hear the bastard grinning through the door. He unwinds the sheets and blankets that have twisted around him during the night and cradles his head in his hands. "Where are you all meeting?"

"Dining room, downstairs. Granny made us breakfast."

"Good god, I woke up in Mayberry."

"Storybrooke, old man. The name is Storybrooke. Come on." There is an ear splitting rattle of some sort on the other side of the door. "Come downstairs and we'll give you coffee and aspirin."

"I'll be there in five minutes."

Bleary eyed and half sick, he manages to dress himself in a fresh suit and tie. After Belle had left him at the bar last night, he had been reviewing his notes and making new ones while downing the scotch that kept making its way into his glass. He couldn't remember how he even got back to Granny's. The last thing he remembers, truly remembers, is her chaste kiss on the cheek.

There's shouting coming from the hallway and Nate fumbles for his cane. He needs painkillers and caffeine if he's going to relay any type of plan to these people. Speaking of the plan, where is his notebook. He is reaching for the discarded suit jacket when the door to his room flies open and slams shut once more. He locks his knees to keep from falling down as his head feels like it's coming apart.

"Honestly, Nate. One night."

It's Belle, it has to be. Before he can form words, she's ripped open the curtains and he can't see anything in the onslaught of the light. He stumbles upon his sunglasses in the breast pocket and quickly slips them on his face. It makes the mid-morning sun bearable at least.

"Belle?"

She's zooming around the room, picking up the discarded clothes from the night before and viciously shaking the wrinkles out of them before hanging them up in the wardrobe. "You couldn't stay sober for one night."

He drops into one of the arm chairs in the room, pressing his fingers against his temples. "Do you have to yell?"

She stops with a sigh, her hands on her hips and a frown firmly placed on her perfect mouth. "I didn't want to believe them when they told me why you left the insurance company. I kept thinking you were just taking a sabbatical." She gives the suit jacket he's still clutching a sharp yank, his notebook falling onto the carpet with a dull thud. She picks it up and deposits it on the table next to him. "But I guess they're right about you after all. You're just a wash up drunk."

"So it appears."

"Then why are you here, Nate? Why are doing this?"

He shrugs. "I need a job. I need something to do." He waves a dismissively. "Second chances, redemption, who the hell knows."

There is more of that horrible rattling before two pills are pushed into his hand and the scent of coffee wafts in his face. He takes the aspirin that Belle has given him and swallows them with a few strong gulps of the black coffee.

"Thank you, Belle."

She hangs up the rest of his clothes and shuts the wardrobe with a sharp snap. "Thank me by getting your semi-sober ass downstairs and convince the rest of them to stay on despite this," she motions in his direction but her words don't come. "God above, Nate, what's happened to you?"

"Life, dearie. Life is what happened to me."

"I hate to tell you this but life happens to all of us and there are three other people sitting downstairs, sober and ready to hear about how we're going to save this town."

His head was starting to clear slightly. The coffee was helping immensely and hopeful in another fifteen minutes, so would the aspirin. "We're not going to save the town, that's too hard, too much responsibility."

"Then what are we going to do?"

He finishes the coffee and stands, thankful his legs are slightly more sturdy than before. "We're going to steal it."

"Steal it?"

"Right out from underneath Madame Mayor."

Belle steps up to him right before he opens the door and straightens his tie. "I hope you know what you're doing, Nate."

He certainly hopes so too. "So, will I pass inspection, Colonel French?"

She smoothes down his tie gently. "You're not the same man who chased me across three continents just to let me go. I was kind of hoping to see him again."

His mind is still too addled and cloudy to come up with a proper response before she steps back from him and opens the door.

"Now," she states, "this is going to hurt me more than it's going to hurt you." And she slams the door shut in his face, the sound reverberating around his skull. Even through the pulses of pain, her message is exceedingly clear: she will make him suffer if he drinks himself into oblivion again.

Once the pain subsided enough for him to walk in a straight line, he opened the door and started towards the stairs. Perhaps with Belle's threats hanging over his head, he could stop the drinking and be the man she was hoping to see again. It would be nice to look in a mirror and actually recognize the person staring back.


	4. Chapter 4

**The True Love Job**

**Chapter Three**

Belle didn't know what to expect when she came to Storybrooke but she certainly didn't expect this. She doesn't know what to do with herself so she heads back downstairs to the dining room where the others are gathered. Breakfast has already been eaten and cleared away. There are a scattering of coffee mugs around that keep getting refilled while everyone waits for Gold to appear.

"He finally up?" Emma asks from her lounging position in the corner. She's casually flipping through a gun magazine.

"He is."

"Is he sober?" August doesn't even look up from his iPad.

Belle grabs another cup and fills it with coffee. "Hung over, but functional."

August laughs with an edge. "Gotta love those functional drunks."

Jefferson snaps his pocket watch shut with a sharp click. "He needs to have one hell of plan to keep us here any longer."

"As luck would have it, I do."

Belle has to admit, Nate pulled himself together rather quickly. He had lost the sunglasses and the use of his cane made him appear far more steady than he seemed just moments ago in his room. The framework is still there, underneath the shadowed eyes and chalky pallor. She hadn't lied when she told him she was hoping to see that man from a year ago. He had been cocky, smart and doggedly determined and it seemed just liked yesterday she had slipped through his fingers.

_She had country hopped from Chile to Japan to Germany. She had just landed in London and her next flight would take her to the Cayman Islands and no extradition laws. Freedom was so close and she tugged her baseball cap lower across her forehead as she made her way to the gate. But an arm latched around hers and tugged her into the bar. _

"_Well, well dearie, it seems this is the end of the road." _

_She was deposited on a barstool, Nate Gold taking the one next to her. She could still see the gate and watched the door close. She snatched the hat of her head and shook out her blonde curls. She was so close. "Congratulations, Mr. Gold, you caught me." She tossed him a subdued but saucy smirk. "Whatever are you going to do with me?" _

_He straightened his suit jacket and resettled his shoulders. "Escort you back to the States, present my case to the judge-" _

"_And see me locked up in jail for fifty years?" _

_He looked at her out of the corner of his eye. "One last drink?" _

_She glanced around the bar and saw that it was well placed for her capture. There was one exit, directly behind her and just the closed gate in running distance. She ordered a cosmopolitan and studied the man in front of her. Right now, he was her only exit, the only door that could open and restore her freedom to her. She made a living reading men's body language and giving them what they wanted. She had to figure out what he really wanted from her. _

_He had followed her across three continents, a travel that had spread over two months. He was relentless and she couldn't sleep in the same place more than two nights in a row before he chased her further across whatever country they happened to be in that day. Other law enforcement and insurance investigators usually gave up after the first two weeks. There was one detective, a Gaston something or another, that chased her for a month before giving up. But not Nate Gold, he would have chased her for two years if he needed. _

_She was staring at him so hard that she failed to realize he was staring at her with equal intensity. And there it was, the reason for his dogged pursuit. He had fallen for her. It wasn't the first time it had happened, men tended to confuse lust with love often enough for her to benefit from it. But he wasn't looking at her like a conquest, with that rabid hunger that most men had for her. It was a quiet, subtle twinge in the corner of his mouth and a softening to his eyes. She found herself leaning towards him and that unexpected warmth in his expression, the idea of what a great grifter he would be crossed her mind. _

_There was only way to see if this was genuine or a ruse. She crossed the space between them and firmly pressed her lips against his. He didn't move away or press forward so she ghosted her fingers over the side of his neck, searching out his pulse point. When she finds it, it's a strong and rapid pulse. It was easy to fake body language, harder to force a certain look in the eye but the heart never lied. The beat never lied at least. _

_He really had fallen for her. _

_And it mattered. _

_For the first time in her career someone else's feelings towards her mattered. She drew away from him but still stayed close. If anyone were to catch her, she would be okay with it being him. _

"_Tell you what," he said, his voice hoarse. "It's a long flight back to the States. Why don't you go get us some books?" _

_She sat back on the bar stool in surprise. Did he just say what she thought he did? "Books?" _

"_I like biographies." He was staring hard at his hands and not at her. _

"_Wait, two months of chasing me across Europe and Asia, and you trust me to come back?" _

_He smiled sadly and finally turned towards her. There was a resignation that tinged the warmth in his eyes. "No, I expect I'll never see you again." _

And they didn't see each other, not until the bar last night. She had followed his career closely though. She even came to his son's funeral, surprising herself at just how much one kiss had come to mean to someone who handed out their heart to whoever had the means to fund her travels. She had hoped the rumors of him drinking himself into oblivion didn't hold any truth. But she knew him now, knew how deeply he felt things. He could never be the same after an event such as that.

But as she watches him settle at the head of the dining table, she sees a spark of the man who caught her and let her go. There are still pieces missing, shattered beyond repair but then again, she isn't exactly intact either.

"So what's the plan?" Emma asks, coming to sit at the table with the rest of them.

"Town charter?" Nate points at August.

"There's no electronic copy. We'll have to swipe the original and the copy. As far as I could tell, those are the only two copies."

Nate nods. "Belle will go into the records room and get the copy that's on file. Jefferson will swipe the original that is kept in the Mayor's office. Once we have them, we can change what needs to changed. That's the first step."

"No," Jefferson shakes his head, "the first step is you telling us what the payoff for this job is."

This is something that Belle knows. "I heard Granny talking this morning with her granddaughter, Ruby, that the people who want the mayor out are having a meeting this evening to discuss the price they can afford to offer us."

"So why start working on a job if I'm not going to stick around for it?" Jefferson asks.

Nate shrugs. "What else are you going to do in town?"

Belle represses a smile. Yes, Nate Gold is still there underneath the hurt and hang over. She just hopes that some of her broken pieces match with his this time.


End file.
